The First Time
by Purple.H
Summary: House is late again. please R&R first story


The First Time

He walked into the boardroom. after placing his briefcase by his chair he poured himself a coffee from the pot on the side table. Exchanging small talk with one of the administrators, he took his normal chair at the long table. He was early to the meeting and the room was mostly empty apart from the young administrator, who was carefully fiddling with her hair. Wilson sorted through the small forest of paper, which he needed for the meeting laying the most important at the top. Other board members began to file in to the room and prepare themselves for the meeting in the same way. Once completed the task they chatted informally over their coffee, as the waited for the last member to arrive. It was 12 o'clock buy the time Cuddy entered. Her hair and make up perfect as normal, but she was clearly anxious about something. She seemed to relax a bit as she sat down and called the meeting to order. Wilson put it down to her being 10 minutes late for the meeting Cuddy hated to be late for anything.

"Motion Carried by majority of 9 to 4." Dr Cuddy spoke formally as she noted it down. "The Lucas wing will be extended this summer, For the edition of 8 extra bed and a family room. I will speak to…"

beep, beep, beep, beep! Wilson felt his pager vibrate violently against his left hip. Eyes fixed on him as he fumbled with his lab coat in the attempted to pull the offending item off his belt. Blushing under the heat of the eyes boring into him, he looked at the screen. He instantly felt sick. The message read. "Hlp.H" wordlessly he started to pack up all his stuff and hurriedly shoved it into his briefcase.

"I am sorry I must answer this page. Dr Cuddy may I have a moment?" although it was posed as a question, it was only a mark of respect. The intensity of Wilson stare showed Cuddy that it was nothing less than an order. This is what made him a great head of oncology and an excellent doctor. His strength under pressure was unfaltering. She truly admired him. She excused herself and followed him out of the room. She had already guessed what the page was about but, hoped she was wrong. She let Wilson confirm it her fear. He handed her his pager with the message still on screen.

"Take the afternoon off. Whatever you need, call." She handed the pager back.

"How many times have you called?" Wilson knew that House wouldn't be this late in when he had a case he was engrossed in. Cuddy would have been annoyed at first when his team hadn't seen him.

"Twice, I even threatened to sent Cameron round. Look I'll phone the pharmacy to get something together. You can pick it up on your way out." Wilson nodded and set off for his car. "James" Cuddy called down the corridor "take Foreman, you might need help." Once again Wilson nodded grimly.

They had agreed that Foreman should wait in the car unless Wilson needed him. House would go nuts if one of his fellows saw him in trouble. He was a proud man and would protect his pride carefully. He didn't want people to think of him as that poor old cripple who's always in pain. Wilson took a deep breath as he entered the apartment unsure of how he was going to find his friend.

"House?" he yelled, scanning the living room for any sign for the 6ft angry cripple. His eyes fell on a bottle of opened scotch on the fireplace. He walked over quickly to check the level, it was the same as 2 nights ago when they had watched a hockey match together. Relieved that he didn't have to deal with House drunk or with a nasty hangover. House was difficult most of the time but those times he was about 10 times worst. He carefully avoided the coffee table buried under a ton of files, books and magazines as he walked over to the kitchen, empty. As he headed towards the bedroom he heard running water, curious he opened the door. A foul stench of stale vomit assaulted his nostrils. He quickly flushed the toilet ridding most of the smell from the room. He found his friend curled up tightly hands gripping his right thigh muscle. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, as he fought desperately to control his breathing. He leaned over to the sink shutting off the tap. Noticing House's scribble all over the mirror, recognised them as the symptoms of his latest patient.

"House?" Wilson knelt beside him. Putting down the bag of equipment and drugs that Cuddy had ordered for him. House didn't acknowledge his friend; he was encased in his world of pain. All his energy focused on his breathing. "Greg, I need you to give me a number buddy!" he said gently but firm as he held both of House's shoulders. Slowly the screwed up eyes relaxed and opened just enough to see Wilson briefly, then closed again.

"What the hell does it look like!" He said angrily.

Wilson smiled this was the reply he hoped for. He reached over and pulled the bag open taking out the pulse oximeter and the BP cuff.

"What the hell happened?" Wilson asked as he attempted to put the oximeter onto House right index finger. It was too busy gripping his thigh.

"House, you want help, give me an Arm." He said firmly. He felt it relax under his hold. Once happy with House's vitals he decided 10mg of morphine was best. It would knock him out for hours but judging by his clothes the ones he was wearing yesterday he had probably been on the floor all night, he needed the rest. Wilson quickly prepared the vein. House opened his eyes as he felt the needle pierced his skin. He looked at Wilson questioningly "10mg" Wilson said as he pushed the drug slowly, into the vein. Moments later House's body relaxed, his breathing evened out, the pained scowl was replaced by a small smile of thanks. He closed his eyes peacefully as he let the drug take him.

Wilson watched as his friend drifted into a pain free sleep. Monitoring his vitals for a couple of minutes. It was only after he made a quick check of the apartment to make sure that nothing was visible that House wouldn't want Foreman to see. Although he had no intention to ever tell house that Foreman had been there that day. He didn't want Foreman to stumble onto something that was deeply private. Wilson dialled Foreman's number to ask for a hand to get House into bed.

Foreman entered the living room, the place was a mess books, journals, magazines, files, and notebooks littered every surface. The only place that was clear was the floor. Curiosity overcame him as he glanced over at the heap of files that stood on the desk. Surprised to find that they were all copies of the last 3 patients they had, diagnosed. Foreman respected his boss professionally but personally thought that he was an insensitive asshole. He was amazed at the amount of medical text books he kept along side Playstation games and DVD's. He walked on into the bathroom to find Wilson strapping House's left leg to his right, the left acting as a splint.

"I don't know how much damage he as done to it then he fell but I don't what to make it worst when we move him." Foreman walked over to where his unconscious boss lay, nearly tripping over the uncapped whiteboard maker.

"Whoa!" he grabbed the towel rail to balance himself. Around where the maker lay was House's shaky scribble on the white tiles of the bathroom floor, the symptoms for their current patient written again. Underneath the symptoms was one word unlined 3 times; 'lupus.' That had been one of their first ideas but they had been proved wrong. Foreman stood there surprised by his discovery, House had left at 3:15 yesterday without giving a reason. He just left telling his team to keep Keri alive until the next day. The patient was called Kristy, which Cameron reminded him of angrily. Foreman thought about his boss's diagnosis, the symptoms matched but the test had rule it out.

"His distraction." Wilson said simply as he watched Foreman.

"It isn't lupus, the test was negative."

"Do the test again, I'm sure he thought of that." Wilson shrugged.

"Right, so the test has to be wrong, because he decides it has to be lupus when his out of his mind with pain." Foreman scoffed.

They managed to get the sleeping cripple into his own bed with surprising ease. Wilson told Foreman to go back to the hospital to take care of his patient, while he stayed with House. He had rung Cuddy to keep her informed about the situation she promised that she would make it over after she got off. Then he called his secretary and reorganised all of his appointments for later that week, and had her sent a pile of paperwork that he needed to complete. It arrived at half past one; House had been asleep peacefully for around an hour, he would be out for another 4 hours.

Cuddy arrived at 5.30 she looked tried but cheerful.

"How is he?" she asks putting down her briefcase and bag by the coffee table. Cuddy found Wilson in the kitchen preparing dinner for everyone. Wilson gave her the full report on what's happened since they spoke at lunch. Pleased with what she heard, she walked thought the hall into the bedroom. House was lying in the centre of the bed, where Foreman and Wilson had positioned him so he wouldn't fall out. They had carefully arranged his right leg on a pillow elevating it to prevent it becoming too swollen. Cuddy sat down on the bed next to House's right leg. House looked so vulnerable as he slept. Slipping back into professional mode carefully she pulled back the blankets covering House to reveal his butchered thigh. Looking and Gently feeling for any injury to the area. Satisfied she replaced the blankets and the ice pack that Wilson had position. There was only a small amount of bruising to the outside of the thigh. He was lucky, but it was enough to probably cause a severe amount of pain due to its location near the damaged nerves. They would just have to wait and see when House woke.

His lazy brain drifted, he decided that he was lying on his back on his bed. He heard two people laughing; he assumed that they must be in his living room. Who they were and why they were in his living room, was beyond him. He just didn't care, he was sure that the answer would arise at some point and he couldn't be bothered to work it out. He let himself float completely relaxed. Cuddy and Wilson were making fun of reruns of 'Scrubs' as Dr Cox was having one of his out bursts. Another burst of laughter made House come crashing back into reality. Opening his eyes he found himself in the centre of his bed with his leg supported by pillows. He reached over to grab the bottle of Vicodin that he always placed on his bedside table. A glass of water had been put next to the orange bottle, Wilson. He tipped two small white pills into the palm of his hand swallowing with the help of the water. Carefully he picked up his right leg and placed it on to the floor. Pain flared up from his leg only to eager to remind him of last night. He sat with his eyes closed rubbing his leg waiting for the pain to die down to a tolerable level. Eventually he pulled on a pair of jeans that was closet to the bed and limped over to his cane. Slowly he made his way into his living room careful not to put too much weight on his right side. Cuddy and Wilson barely looked at him as he sat down on the couch next to Wilson. As he positioned his leg on the coffee table Wilson got up and walked into the kitchen, returning he handed House a bowl of pasta. House grunted his thanks and ate in silence. 'Scrubs' finished Cuddy decided it was time to leave, pulling on her jacket she turned to House

"I'll see you tomorrow." He grunted in reply Wilson had just turned over to monster trunk racing and was now engrossed in the violence of a crash. Annoyed at the lack of response although she had expected it she added to Wilson, "Call me." Leaving the two men alone.

Wilson walked behind House on his way to the bedroom, just in case. He had been lucky the fall hadn't cost he too much, his walking was slower and more controlled than normal but he was walking. The fall had caused the breakthrough pain making any movement unbearable. He admitted to Wilson that he had controlled it until he had figured out the puzzle. He finally gave up and paged Wilson 2 hours after he had figured out his patient had lupus. Wilson stayed that night, just in case. That was the first time, it happened.


End file.
